


Looking for Friends

by tuesday



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Meet-Cute, Pumpkins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-04 13:42:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21198587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: The first pumpkin George sold the guy was more of a he broke it, he bought it situation.





	Looking for Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plastics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plastics/gifts).

> Recip, I ran with your prompt, "Well, he messed up carving his first one, and then he decided it needed friends, and then he decided that he wants to make pie, and will Farmer be less busy once the season ends, does he think?" I hope you enjoy!
> 
> This is an exchange gift. 
> 
> (Personal notes: ODD: 10/27.)

The first pumpkin George sold the guy was more of a he broke it, he bought it situation. George was bent over grabbing one of his larger pumpkins to load up for a sweet little old lady he knew only as Ms. Wu, who turned her Victorian home into a spectacularly creepy haunted house every fall, when he heard it: the horrible, wet sound of a pumpkin dropped to the ground and split into pieces. When he straightened and turned, he discovered the culprit, a guy in his late twenties. He was wearing jeans, red flannel, chunky black glasses, and the remains of one of George's beautiful pumpkins all over his red Chucks. The guy's face was also red.

"I—I'm so sorry!" the guy said. He waved his empty hands. "I'll definitely pay for that! I mean, I was going to pay for it anyway, but now I'm really—" He broke off, looking around. "Do you have a, a trash bag, or—? I can clean this up."

"It's fine," George said. He returned to his task, placing the pumpkin in the back of Ms. Wu's Camaro and fastening it safely in. "I'll take care of it." To Ms. Wu, "Did you need anything else?"

Ms. Wu shook her head, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepening. "I'll bring the grandkids by later this weekend, pick up some smaller ones."

George turned back to the pumpkin dropper, who was sheepishly scraping bits of pumpkin off the tops of his shoes. "Go pick out another pumpkin. I'll clean up."

The guy picked out another pumpkin. He paid for both. He lingered for a moment. He opened his mouth to say something—and then closed it again. He picked up his new pumpkin and left. Dropped pumpkin aside, he wasn't particularly memorable.

**

The next time the guy showed up, early the next day, he didn't drop the pumpkin. He chose a middling-sized round one. He said, though George hadn't asked, "I messed up carving the last one. This one will go better."

"Mm," George hummed agreeably. He took the guy's money.

"Did you, um—" The guy looked down at his pumpkin. He awkwardly patted it on the side before lifting it. He said, "Thank you for the pumpkin!"

"Have a good one," George said. He wondered what the guy had wanted to say, but he wasn't curious enough to actually ask.

**

"Hey, boss," Maria said that Sunday, her brows knit together. "You said to let you know if there was anything weird. We've got a loiterer."

"Sometimes people take a while to make up their mind." George stood up from the back step and stretched. Break might as well be over. "What's weird about that?"

"He's not really looking at the pumpkins." At whatever she saw on George's face, she waved her hands and said, "He just looks like he's looking for someone. He's not paying any particular attention to anyone or even to the cash box. I thought maybe you knew him."

Turned out George sort of knew him. The pumpkin dropper was back. His expression brightened when he saw George ambling down the rows of pumpkins.

"Need help finding anything?" George asked.

"I'm just looking for friends," the guy said. He pointed to a pumpkin seemingly at random. "For my pumpkin, I mean! It. Looked lonely?"

George didn't laugh, though he couldn't help smiling. "We have plenty left if you want more."

"Right. Yes." At some point, the guy had cleaned his Chucks. He dug the toe of one into the dirt. "Any recommendations?"

"Depends. Did you also want to carve these?" George asked.

They talked about pumpkins for a little while. The guy picked out a bunch of little ones, and George put them in a box for easy transport. Before he left, the guy said, "My name's David, by the way. David Sun."

The cardboard box slid in David's arms. George reached out to steady it.

"Enjoy your pumpkins, David," George said.

George assumed he did, because it was another week before he showed up again.

**

"I want to make pumpkin pie," David said, marching right up to George this time, who was rearranging pumpkins to fill empty spaces. "What do you recommend?"

"Honestly?" George looked at the pumpkins he had left. He looked at David, who had already bought a bunch of pumpkins he probably didn't need. "Go to the grocery store and buy it in a can. Unless you've made it from scratch before, that'll be a lot easier."

"But if I really wanted to try it with a fresh pumpkin?" David asked.

"Do you?" George asked.

David's shoulders slumped. "Not really."

"Come on." George inclined his head toward the house. "Follow me, and I'll give you the recipe I use. Gotta get a pen and paper."

"Really?" David perked back up. He followed George down the rows of pumpkins, around the house, up the back step, and into the kitchen. "So busy season, huh?"

"Busy enough." George grabbed a legal pad and scrounged up a worn down pencil that worked well enough for his purposes. He wrote down the information he wanted to share, tore it off, and handed it over.

David barely glanced at the paper at first. His second look showed he actually read it this time. His eyes widened and narrowed. "'Buy frozen.'" David smoothed a thumb down the yellow paper. "And—"

"My phone number." George smiled, already headed for the door. He held it open. "If you have any questions."

"What sort of question would I possibly have about how to buy a frozen pie?" David asked, stepping back outside.

"Doesn't have to be about pie," George said.

**

David called. He said, "I know you're probably busy—"

"Not that busy," George said.

**

David's front porch had a medium-sized pumpkin with a carving of a witch on it. On the step below it was a wolf howling at the moon. Scattered on the wide porch rail were small pumpkins with tiny, detailed paintings: a black cat, a ghoulish hand, a zombie, teeth dripping blood, another, smaller pumpkin. Across the way was Ms. Wu's house done up in lights and cobwebs and dozens of decorations.

David smiled sheepishly. "It's not much, but it's mine."

"These are really good," George said, stopping just short of touching the witch's impish smile. George gave one of his own. "So which of these did you mess up carving?"

"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?" David asked.

"If this works out," George said, hooking his fingers through David's belt loops, "then no, I don't think I will."

From the way David grinned into George's mouth, he didn't seem to mind.

**

Next year, David showed up at the beginning of pumpkin season. He said, "I was wondering if you could help me. I'm looking for a pumpkin."

"Maria, you're in charge for the next hour," George said. He draped an arm around David's shoulders. "I'm taking a break."

David eventually found a couple pumpkins. He didn't pay for either of them.


End file.
